


The First Horcrux

by villaindecay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aroused Victim, Asphyxiation, Blackmail, Bukkake, Extremely Dubious Consent, Homophobic Language, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, M/M, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Rope Bondage, Rough Oral Sex, Slurs, Verbal Humiliation, Victim POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 06:02:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16927815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/villaindecay/pseuds/villaindecay
Summary: "As iron is eaten away by rust, so the envious are consumed by their own passion."- Antisthenes PintoThey are those who admire him and those who are jealous of him. But they all worship Tom Riddle.Upon arriving in Slughorn's office, expecting to attend another gathering of Hogwarts' special 'elite' Tom finds himself trapped by a group of boys who really want to let him know how they feel about him.





	The First Horcrux

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fynx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fynx/gifts).



> I want to thank my Beta "L" who was an absolute delight and who helped me more than I could've ever asked for ! Love you so much!
> 
> Also "K" and "J" who helped me brainstorm and come up with ideas for this fic. 
> 
> I LOVED writing this, it was a lot of fun and I put a lot of heart into it. Hope you enjoy!

It was common knowledge that Professor Slughorn was easily bribed, or otherwise ‘convinced’ to do virtually anything - if done in the right way. He was an opportunist, a sleazy bootlicker that had a lot of buttons waiting to be pushed. All it had taken Riddle was a bag of crystallized pineapple and Slughorn had started singing like a bird about the details of creating multiple Hocruxes. So maybe Riddle had overestimated himself when he’d thought that it was thanks to his 'social skills' and exceptional charisma that Slughorn had cracked so quickly. Or he’d just simply underestimated the others - they were Slytherins for a reason after all.

It seemed as if getting a favour from Slughorn was in fact as easy as purchasing a said bag of crystallized pineapples at a candy store. Still, Tom was surprised when he walked into his office, fully expecting to see the circle of the Slug Club, ready to hold another lavish dinner party. Now that he thought about it, it did seem sort of strange to host another gathering so shortly after the last one, but what reasons did he have to be suspicious about it?

Instead of the potion professor himself and the eleven students that had the honour to call themselves Slughorn's 'elite', there were only five of the students waiting in the big and spacious office. Tom asked himself what they were waiting for exactly, since the dinner table wasn't set and nobody seemed to be too eager to change that. Instead, they were lingering around the various sofas and armchairs in Slughorn's office as if it was their common room.

The office was richly furnished, sumptuously luxurious and on the fine line between tasteful and vulgar. In all honesty, Tom wasn't really accustomed to such costly and opulent surroundings, but he had gotten used to Slughorn's heavy, velvet drapes and the golden ornaments decorating the marble and ebony furniture over time.

He didn't particularly look like an outsider between all the extravagance, but everyone knew he was still a poor half-blood that had been raised in a Muggle orphanage. He was a minority in the Slytherin house and even though he was a Prefect, well-integrated and respected amongst teachers and students, there was this consciousness lingering inside of him, a certainty that some of his fellow students still looked at him and saw what they first had seen when he had enrolled in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry five years ago. Scum.

It didn't matter that Hogwarts had never seen a better student than him. To them, he was still a second-rate wizard, pretending to be anything better than a simple, filthy mudblood. Fortunately, there weren't a lot of those students. It was mostly the ones blinded by jealousy and frustration with their own inferiority. When boys like Travers and Selwyn looked at him, they smiled with that slight crookedness, a twitch in the corner of their mouths that indicated... disgust. Hatred.

These were the faces that stared back at Tom when he had entered the room. Travers was lounging on Slughorn's massive desk chair, legs crossed and feet resting on top of the professor's bureau. It was ridiculous how desperately he tried to look imposing and dominant while having no presence whatsoever. His posture indicated that he did not expect Slughorn to run there any minute, which seemed strange since it was him who had allegedly arranged this meeting for today.

While Travers glared at him like a predatory animal ready to defend his territory, the other boys had a softer look to them. The majority of the school had fallen victim to his charm. They were competing for his attention and addicted to his approval - especially Avery and Lestrange. The two fellow members of the Slug Club immediately jumped up when they spotted him.

"Tom! You're... here.", Avery stated with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty in his voice. What sort of stupid statement was that? Of course he was here. "Yes.” Tom gave him a jovial smile. He had to look up a little to hold eye-contact with the older boy and he could tell that his company made Avery more nervous than usual. Surely, there was something going on here. Tom Riddle wasn't a fool, but he was willing to play one.

"So? Where are the others?" One quick glance through the giant room reassured him that it was only Avery, Lestrange, Travers, Selwyn and, hidden in the shadows of the tall pillars in the room, Yaxley. The five Slytherin boys of the Slug Club, including two of his closest... companions. From the looks of it, this seemed to be some sort of prank, the nature of which he had yet to uncover, but it didn't make sense that Avery and Lestrange were here as well. They would never participate in such mischief, at least not if Tom was the target.

"Sorry, Tommy. There’s no dinner tonight." Travers got up from his over exaggerated position and the moment he called Tom by this belittling nickname, everyone in the room felt like a switch had been flipped. Tom’s eyes darkened with a sudden, sharp awareness.  
He was alert. He knew that the door behind him was closed. That someone was keeping watch. That whatever this was had been planned. Still, Tom decided not to react too strongly to the clear acts of disrespect from the 7th-grader. Curiosity motivated him further to wait and see where this was going.

"Excuse me? What exactly is the meaning of this then?" Due to his perceptiveness, he immediately picked up the barely noticeable movement from Avery and Lestrange, how they flinched when he spoke. Tom never raised his voice. There was no need for it. A mere whisper of his was strong enough to silence an entire room. Maybe Travers and Selwyn weren't as familiar with this particular tone of his voice as the other two boys, but they surely noticed the change.

Still, they didn't seem to back down. Instead, Travers approached him and stopped uncomfortably close. This type of behaviour was typical from the likes of him. Trying to intimidate him by invading his personal space and forcing intense eye contact. Tom didn't blink, clearly unimpressed by this performance.

"If I was you, I'd be very careful with that attitude...", the other two boys started backing Travers up. "You see, Tommy... We know that you really want to become Headboy next year. And by all means, who's more qualified than you are?" As Travers spoke, Tom started to slowly reach for his wand. "Dippet has probably unofficially already picked you. It's not a secret. Speaking of secrets however...", Travers face lit up like a candle when he said this. A sly grin spread over his face, showing his teeth, as though they were as sharp and dangerous as the words passing them.

"There is something that puzzles me. Something that Dumbledore would be really interested in hearing about... Something that he'd be very eager to tell Dippet right away." He was visibly getting more and more content with himself as Tom's cool expression started to shake. "Something that would be a real pain in the arse for you if anyone found out about it. Get where I'm coming from here, Tommy?"

It couldn't be. Impossible. Travers was bluffing. For sure he was. There was no way that this kid had any valuable information on him. How could he know about Dumbledore keeping an eye on him? Was it that obvious? Tom started boiling with anger, but he had to stay calm, conceal his emotions. He had to find out what this bastard was talking about.

"I have no clue what you're hinting at, Travers. But if you're trying to blackmail me-" The boy cut him off straight away. "Oh, come on Tommy, we both know what I'm talking about. And your little dogs here do as well!" Avery and Lestrange started yelling at the same time: "We didn't do anything and Tom didn't either!" The shakiness of their voices implied otherwise. Travers clearly noticed as well and talked over them easily. "Please, we all know that you two helped him."

This kid had some nerves trying to threaten him. If only he knew that Tom had just killed his entire family a few months ago, then he wouldn't be talking like he did. It started dawning upon him that Travers was talking about the Chamber of Secrets, though. There was simply no way he could've found out about that. Tom was almost ridiculously cautious and he had made sure that nobody saw him at any point.

"Listen... What do you want from me?", Tom started to waver. He sure as hell wasn't willing to negotiate with this prick, but he had to buy some time to think about what he should do next. If Travers really knew something, even if it was just a tiny seemingly irrelevant detail... Tom was in big trouble. It was true, Dumbledore was keeping an eye on him, looking for hints and clues everywhere.

"Oh, it's not about what we want. It's about what we can take." At last Travers took a few steps back and opened his arms in an exaggerated gesture, ready to give the big speech he was saving up for this moment. "You see, none of us like you prancing down the hallways like you own them with your little Prefect pin, telling everyone what to do and what not to do."

Sometimes it was hard to believe that these boys were actually older than him. Tom had his hand on the wand in his pocket, ready to draw it if needed. However, the risk was too high. They would still tell Dumbledore whatever they knew if he simply used self-defensive spells to get out of here. Maybe it was better to just give them what they wanted for now? First, he had to find out what they were talking about.

"We all know you’d really like to be part of the pure-blood elite, Riddle. But let's face it: You're a dirty rat that was raised in a filthy Muggle orphanage. Not even your parents wanted you, so get off your high horse."

Tom grew pale and he almost choked on the words that were spat at him. He was furious. It took a lot of self-control not to murder all of them on the spot. Oh no, killing them would be too easy. The terror on Avery's face reassured him that at least he knew what a huge mistake these fools had made. To humiliate him like that in front of his friends... He would show no mercy. No mercy. Tom started shaking while trying his hardest to remain patient and calm.

"So, Tom, everything we want from you we will simply take. Because that's how things are now. No more 'No running in the hallway' and no more '10 points from Slytherin'. We may be on the same team, Riddle, but we're not playing in the same league anymore."

If he hadn’t been so angry, Tom would've rolled his eyes at this boring attempt to overpower him. Fine, so Travers and his lowlife friends wanted to feel big and in charge for once? Was that what they arranged this stupid secret meeting in Slughorn's offices for? A bunch of imbeciles, that's all they were.

"I see that you are upset with the way I've been handling things the past few years, but as a Prefect I must make no exceptions, even when it comes to my own house-" Before he could finish his sentence Travers had pointed his wand at him. _"Incarcerous!"_

The tip of Travers wand exploded and thin ropes came shooting out, wrapping themselves around Riddle's body. They bound his arms to his chest and his ankles to his thighs so that he was abruptly kneeling on the floor, a shocked expression on his face.

Travers must've learned this spell while practicing for his conjuration N.E.W.T.s. It wasn't exactly perfect - the ropes weren't as tight as they were supposed to be to hold someone down who was struggling and wriggling to get free - but right now it was enough to keep Tom in place, as he was completely flabbergasted to what was happening.

"Look at you now! Not so preachy any more, are we?" Travers stood over him, admiring his work with an odd sort of excitement in his gaze. The other two boys approached him as well and after Travers had waved Avery and Lestrange over, all five of them were circled around him, staring eagerly at the restrained 6th-grader.

"You... can't-" Tom fought for words, taken-aback by how quickly the situation had escalated. Everyone could see how aggravated and ashamed he was, but nobody seemed to bother. Not even Avery or Lestrange stepped in. One of Tom’s perfectly combed curls must've had come loose after his sudden crash to the ground and was now resting on his forehead, tickling his frown.

The boys surrounding him stood quiet for a moment, staring at him with an almost appreciative look. After what felt like an eternity Travers broke the silence.

"You've always been a pretty one, haven't you, Riddle?" With an unexpected gentleness in his touch, Travers swiped the curl out of Tom’s face and let his fingers rest in the thick, dark hair that crowned the younger one's head. A violent rush of hatred washed over Tom so intensely, he felt like throwing up. Before he even had the chance to say anything back, Travers had grabbed him by the hair and violently pulled his head back, forcing out a surprised wheeze.

"I believe your friend here thinks so as well." Without letting go, Travers grabbed Avery's shoulder with his other hand and pulled him closer. It was only now that Tom realized that Avery's face was flaming red, like he had a fever. Tom didn’t struggle putting two and two together, as from where he was kneeling it was perfectly obvious that Avery's crotch was oddly shaped.

He tried to remain expressionless as best as he could when he realized that his friend had a bulging erection for whatever revolting reason. Tom would have been lying to himself if he didn’t admit that some of the Slytherins in his inner circle had eyed him with... a peculiar kind of interest before, but this was simply too ridiculous. The longer he stared at Avery's tightening pants, the more the poor fellow's legs started to shake.

Fine, a seventeen-year-old who couldn't control his reproductive organs wasn't as shocking as Travers tried to make it out to be, but what was his point exactly? Maybe it was a self-preservative reaction, but Tom refused to accept whatever it was that Travers was implying.

"Come on Avery... We all know you’ve waited a lifetime for this moment, hm? Here, we’ll let you go first, cause you clearly can't hold it any longer!" The rest of the gang burst laughter and Avery started blinking rapidly as his eyes began to glisten with wetness.

"Leave him alone, bloody hell!" Lestrange tried to reach out for Travers who still had a firm grip on both Tom and Avery, but he was quickly shut down by Selwyn and Yaxley. "You're all in the same boat, so you better start fucking participating!", Travers barked at him like a dog.

Travers turned back to Tom with a cruel smile. "Unless you want Dumbledore to find out what you use your little Parseltongue for, I suggest you start using it now."

Petrified like a Basilisk's victim, Tom couldn't even turn his head to avoid what was about to happen. It was simply unbelievable. Naturally, he had heard of incidents at the orphanage before, and perhaps there had been a time where he himself had been a victim of 'lewd behaviour', but it had never been that blunt and inevitable.

Avery mouthed an apology before continuing to bite his lip with a needy and suffering look that made Tom shiver in disgust. As Avery was fondling with the fly of his pants, shaky and impatient hands jerking at the metal clumsily, some sounds escaped his lips that were so... undignified. Desperate. It was embarrassing to see how much he struggled.

Tom didn't have time to think about what he should do once Avery had exposed himself, and the minute it happened it was already too late. Avery’s dick stood painfully erect and red at the tip. No wonder he hadn’t fought back at all - Avery clearly wanted this to happen. The fact that he was already leaking didn't go unnoticed.

"Hell, you really like him, do you? Fucking weirdo..." Travers gave Avery a push and a threatening look. "Come on, we don't have all day, you sick freak." Avery's dick twitched in response instantly, and even Tom gave him a disturbed look. As usual, Avery did as he was told and grabbed Tom's jaw, forcing it open with his fingers. He surely didn't mean to be rough, but the pressure from the other boys had clearly gotten the best of him and Tom frowned at the increasing pain from Avery’s grip.

Tom stared at the thumb pressing on his bottom lip as if he was trying to figure out if it was real or not. Avery didn't wait to let him find out and instead shoved his full length into Tom's parted mouth. It was in that moment, that Tom really longed to rip Travers' face off and feed it to the Basilisk. Oddly enough he didn't blame Avery, even though he was the one currently triggering his gag reflex.

Tom choked and wheezed like a drowning man when Avery started to jerk in his throat. Gazing up, he tried to give Avery an angry look that must've looked rather pathetic, as he felt tears running down his cheeks. Tom hadn’t noticed he was crying before.

"Hey Tommy, suck it!" One of them, Tom wasn't sure who, started pulling his hair from behind to make sure he wouldn't be able to turn his head. All he wanted was for this to stop. Ripping Travers and his friends into a million pieces had become his new top priority now, and the sooner he could get to it the better. If that meant obliging their wishes for now... Well, at least it was Avery and not one of them.

Hesitantly, he tried moving his tongue around the hot flesh that filled up his entire mouth. He could feel his teeth digging into the soft skin, though Avery didn't seem to mind at all. He was pulsing, wincing, and it only took a little bit of movement from Tom's tongue to make him abruptly pull out and burst all over the surprised expression of the tied-up Prefect.

"No way, man! That was like what, 5 seconds?!" The Slytherins started taunting the boy amidst roaring laughter as Avery collapsed onto his knees, tainting the floor with the last drops of his cum. Now that they were both at eye level, Tom and Avery stared at each other, the horror of dawning realization on both of their faces. Only Tom's was covered with Avery's semen. He could feel the hot, sticky liquid running down his skin and even though he couldn't see it himself, he knew that he must’ve looked miserable.

None of them were able to say a word as Travers quickly pushed Avery out of the way to take his place. "Enough practice. That was pathetic, Avery." Under the prospect of Travers violating his mouth, Tom suddenly awoke from his trance. He tried to free himself from the firm hand that clenched his hair, fiercely pulling his head back and forth. "No! Stop before I-" A loud smack cut through his shouting like a knife. Silence followed.  
Travers had struck his face. Whoever was standing behind him was so surprised that they let go of his head.

Tom fixated Travers with a bitter, steely gaze but said nothing. His ruffled, messed up hair made him look wild, feral, and for a moment there, Travers looked scared. Maybe it was something in Tom's cold eyes. Something that burned bright under the shadow of his dark, long lashes. Something... not human. Monstrous. Tom could tell that Travers had just started to realize what a lethal mistake he’d made when he had lain hands on Tom for the first time. But there was no return now.

Both of them knew that there would be plenty of opportunity for Travers to regret his decision. Now was not the time for that though. Travers grabbed Tom by his soiled collar and unzipped his own pants. Tom could hear the same sound to his right and left and from the back, quickly realizing that they were all going to have their way with him. If they truly thought that that was what it took to break him, they were sorely mistaken. Perhaps it was degrading to Tom Riddle, but Lord Voldemort could never be degraded.

With an almost stubborn frown he parted his lips again, acknowledging that there was no use in trying to resist. His body had started aching from the tightness of the ropes, so he tried to move as little as possible as Travers slowly slid inside his mouth. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing him in pain. With the hand on the back of his head, Travers slowly started rocking inside Tom's mouth, pushing farther towards the back. There was no way for Tom to control his breathing as Travers fucked his throat. He gagged and moaned around Travers’ cock, and he could feel his own blood rushing to his face, but he tried his best to hold back the tears.

Tom's body jerked as he choked on the thickening dick sliding in and out of his lips and the ropes cut deeper and deeper into his skin. From the corner of his eyes he could see the other boys stroking themselves as they watched him intently. "Now do it right." Travers stopped for a moment, right in front of Tom’s reddened mouth, expectantly. Tom kept his head low so he wouldn't have to see Travers' self-sufficient smile. Then he started to circle around the tip with his tongue. "Right, that's what I imagine a future Headboy to act like." Trying to ignore the other's humiliating remarks, Tom started licking down the shaft, paying close attention to any sudden movements.

He could hear the older boy grunting, and that alone was enough to fuel his wish to crack Travers’ skull open. Tom’s hands had already gone numb from the increasing pressure of the restraints, but he still tried clenching them to fists despite the pain it caused him. Once he had the chance to take his revenge, he would make sure to keep Travers alive as long as possible. He would take days, even weeks making him suffer. Travers’ mind and conscious would melt from the unspeakable torture, until he was left drooling and brain-dead, crawling in front of his feet like the pathetic worm he was. Imagining this made it easier for Tom.

Finally, Travers gave up on coordinating the others as the increasing pleasure left him unable to speak. Tom started moving rhythmically, sucking on the firm cock, his mouth stretching around it. After a while Selwyn decided it was his turn and gave Travers an impatient push to the side. Tom continued sucking and soon enough he had figured out a way to breath more or less steadily.

"Avery...", Travers huffed in between moans. "Don't you think you owe Tommy something, after exploding all over his face?" He took a step away and Yaxley was quick as ever to replace him. It was hard for Tom to see what was going on, as there were still two guys shoving their dicks in his face right in front him. From the sound of it, Travers was pushing someone who was clearly struggling to the ground, pulling him over the wooden floor.

Both of them appeared in Tom's sight again, with Avery on his knees and Travers holding him by the back of his collar like a dog. "We all know you want nothing more than Riddle's dick, you queer bastard." The two young men in front of him took a small step to the side to let Travers shove Avery in between. With a kick to the head he pushed Avery's face in Tom's crotch. The sensation made Tom flinch and a muffled moan escaped him.

Even if he wanted to resist, there was simply no way the way he was tied up. Avery had clear access to his pants and it only took him a few attempts with his ridiculously shaky hands until Tom was exposed as well. Perhaps it was the image of setting Travers on fire that appeared in front of Tom’s inner eye repeatedly that had caused him to grow semi hard. Whatever it was, it made it easy for Avery to get him firm with just a few strokes.

The boy was so eager to retrieve the forced favour that Tom got distracted for a second. Avery was working really hard on his cock, sucking and stroking it until he started to pant himself. After a while, Avery was the one moaning the loudest, much to the amusement of the other boys who were still using Tom's mouth as their personal fuckhole. Seeing Avery crouched on the floor, with this shameful look on his face, humming around Tom's cock as he was clearly unable to hold back the embarrassing sounds... it turned Tom on more than he would've liked to admit.

Travers had gotten Lestrange from his rather passive position as an observer, and now Tom was trying to handle four of them at the same time. The intense feeling of Avery's warm mouth squeezing around his own cock caused him to see stars and soon enough he was gasping and whining. The drool from his own mouth dripped down onto Avery's head and their heavy, unsteady breathing filled the air as everything else grew silent.

Four was simply too much. One would pull out and the other one would force his way in again, deeper, faster, in a different rhythm. They were suffocating him. Tom’s throat was already sore from the deep thrusts, drawing gurgling noises from him. If they kept doing it at this rate, he would pass out for sure.

"Please, no more..." His voice died when he tried to speak and breathe at the same time in between the seconds that his mouth was free to form words. Tom coughed up quiet pleads, eyes slowly starting to roll back from the lack of oxygen. For a moment it seemed like the boys had actually listened, letting go of his head at once, which gave his vision enough time to focus again.

"Sounds like someone really wants us to come all over his face, eh?" Travers grabbed him by the jaw, tracing Tom’s cupid's bow gently before forcing his fingers inside to feel his tired tongue. There was so much spit inside his mouth that when Travers pulled out his hand again, there was a thick string of saliva attached to it, hanging from his bottom lip. "No..." Tom mumbled almost inaudibly.

"Beg for it, Riddle. Then we'll release you." They knew he was exhausted. His whole body was aching from the uncomfortable position he was trapped in, and his hips had started jerking ever so slightly as his own arousal started to become almost unbearable. Tom's eyelids felt heavier with every passing second and he tried his hardest to fight back the impending unconsciousness.

"Just finish it." It was all he was able to say. There was no way in hell that they would get him to beg - he could not be degraded. "No, no, no, Tom. I want to hear you, loud and clear." A hand wrapped around his throat, compressing the arteries and immediately cutting off his airflow. A silent screech escaped his mangled throat - a sound like an old door that hadn't been opened in centuries. Travers was strangling him, squeezing his throat intensely while Avery was doing the same to Tom’s dick.

Just as Tom thought his entire world was about to turn black, Travers released his hold. "Shit!" Taking in big gulps of air, Tom felt his head starting to buzz. Bad sign. He didn't want to think about what they would do to him once he had fallen unconscious...

But this was not happening to him. It was happening to Tom Riddle - a part of him that he had killed the same moment he had killed his father. His grandfather. His grandmother. Once he had split his soul in two, the part that had experienced this would no longer be with him. He could just... disregard it. Like the orphanage. The abuse. This. Simply take it away, store it somewhere else. Tom Riddle was dead and _he_ was Lord Voldemort. It didn't matter what happened to a dead person after they died. So, this didn't matter.

"Fine." With the utmost hatred in his eyes, he stared back at Travers, directly and without hesitation. "Come on my face." It sounded less like begging and more like an order, but evidently, the boys were not really willing to prolong their own release any longer. Without waiting for Travers' permission, they all started jerking off, reaching their orgasm one after another.

Tom held his head high, trying to look as dignified as possible given his current situation. Bodies tensed up around him and warm splashes landed on his face, in his hair, on his collar and his chest. Cum was running down from his forehead, over his cheeks, down his chin, until it covered almost every spot of his flushed face.

Even when his own body started to shake, he didn't break eye contact with Travers, fully aware that he was coming inside Avery's mouth who started sucking him dry almost immediately. It became too much after a short moment of pleasure, but the Slytherin didn't let go of his cock until Travers finally gave him another kick to the head.

The boys stood there for a while, admiring the view in front of them. The perfect Tom Riddle, always neat and presentable, was kneeling on the ground, tied up, shaking and panting. Face fiery red and covered in semen. Hair messy, lips red and swollen. It surely was a sight for sore eyes. They’d better enjoy it for as long as they were able to, because soon enough Tom would make sure that their sore eyes never saw a single thing ever again.

After the boys had left, Avery and Lestrange freed Tom from his restrains. They all silently agreed not to talk about what had happened in Slughorn's office that day, and after Tom had cleaned himself up, all he cared about was his self-assigned ‘homework’. There was no rest until he had taken care of the little problem that Travers and his gang turned out to be. 

In the end, Tom never found out whether Travers and his friends had ever known about the Chamber of Secrets. And the rest of the world never found out what had happened to the three Slytherin students that went missing in 1943.


End file.
